I grew up in an age in which contracting HIV was tantamount to a death sentence. Thankfully, that's no longer the case. But it's no longer the case so long as someone is tested, diagnosed, and receives a continuum of treatment. In the U.S., we are currently missing the mark by a mile.

As we mark continued progress in reaching an AIDS-free generation, I want to introduce you to Guilhermina Marcos. She is among nearly 200 lay counselors, who go door-to- door, bringing HIV testing and counseling services to Mozambicans where they live.

We all think at one time or another "it isn't my problem." I too was one of those who was glad when someone had a crisis or problem and it wasn't me. The year 1991 changed my way of thinking and living.

As gay and bisexual men, it can be overwhelming -- and in some cases, downright exhausting -- to keep HIV at the front of our minds and on the tip of our tongues. But talking about it, with a friend, a doctor or a potential partner, can ease our anxieties and potentially change our thinking and our actions for the better.

Substantial progress has been made to expand HIV testing efforts and increase the percentage of Americans with HIV who are aware they're infected -- from 75 percent in 2003 to 84 percent in 2010 -- but simply knowing your status isn't enough.

With very few exceptions, clergy and lay leaders representing 2.5 billion Christians worldwide are still defending their tired old beliefs that homosexuality is a sickness and a sin, beliefs based on biblical misuse and scientific ignorance.

The ban on federal funds for syringe services programs (SSPs) wrests control from injection drug users -- an abject failure of government to support evidence-based public health, and a rejection of the domestic and global goal of an AIDS-free generation.

While the level of danger has waned over the past three decades, the threat of HIV still remains. Unlike the generations first affected by the virus, the millennial age is now armed a wealth of information and a variety of prevention tools to change the course of HIV for good.

The anniversaries marked on April 23 -- the 30th anniversary of the scientific discovery that unlocked the door to developing treatment for HIV, and the 20th anniversary of the passing of a key figure in gay America's heroic efforts will forever stand out in the history of the HIV pandemic.

Instead of placing responsibility on everyone having sex, Randy Shilts' 1987 book And the Band Played On portrayed people with HIV as suicide bombers. The damage, both to the truth and to the public image of people with AIDS, still reverberates today.

You see, you're more than a number. You're a living miracle, a breath of fresh air. You have hopes and ambitions. You dream. You hurt. You cry. You love. You are intricately weaved in the plot line of humanity's story and I, for one, am glad you're alive.

Recently I met a younger guy who is HIV-negative, and I don't want to risk transmission, so I decided to start loving the condom and learned to stop dropping those mind bombs that kept me down on the farm.